The Witches Apprentice
by Libwolf
Summary: Granny faces off against someone as determined to be a witch as she was.
1. The Witches Apprentice

I wondered what Granny would do if someone faced up to her like she did to her elder generation witches.  
  
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It was just before dawn. Granny woke, stretched and walked over to the window. The trees were green, the herbs were mugging passing birds. There was a young woman sitting in the middle of the lawn, right outside her back door. Muttering to herself, Granny wrapped a shawl around her and stamped down the stairs. Opening the door, she snapped.  
"And what do you want?"  
The girl blinked at her.  
"I want to be a witch, Mistress Weatherwax." she said calmly. Her accent was that of Ankh-Morpork.  
Granny studied her.  
She was about 16, with brown hair and eyes. Wearing her ankle length plain black dress, she didn't look like one of the normal girls that came around wanting to be a witch. However Granny couldn't be having with any of that at her time of life. She already had one student.  
"Go home to your mother, child!" she snapped, and slammed the door.  
She expected to hear sobbing, or at least the girl getting up and leaving. She didn't hear anything. She went through her normal morning routine, although she washed her face in the scullery, as she didn't want to go outside yet. Fishing the newts out of the kettle, she sat down for a cuppa.  
The girl was still outside. Just sitting there, watching the cottage.  
Granny scowled.  
The sun rose higher.  
Nanny dropped in mid-morning, for a cuppa and a chat.  
"Esme? Esme! Why is that girl sitting on your lawn?" Nanny demanded.  
Granny was sitting at the table, staring out the window.  
"I don't know why. She wanted to be a witch, but when I refused her, she wouldn't go away!"  
Nanny gave this some thought. And grinned.  
"Sounds like someone I know." she said.  
"Young Agnes is nothing like that!" Granny snapped.  
Nanny's grin got larger.  
"I wasn't thinking of her. I was thinking of another young girl who wouldn't take no for an answer."  
"She won't have the determination to wait for 2 days!" Granny snapped.  
If Nanny's grin had got any wider, the top of her head would fall off.  
"Bet you a dollar?"  
  
Granny emerged from the cottage, with Nanny following  
"What do you want!" she snapped again.  
"I want to be a witch, Mistress Weatherwax." She said in the same tones as she had used that morning.  
"You don't have any talent!" Granny snapped back.  
The girl stared into her eyes. Silence fell over the clearing. Nanny winced.  
The space between their eyes wavered, as if in intense heat.   
Raw power wasn't enough to defeat a lifetime's experience. The girl broke first.  
"I have talent." she said.  
Behind Granny, Nanny nodded.  
"Not enough!" Granny snapped, turned on her heel and left. Nanny shrugged at the girl, then followed.  
  
"I was nothing like that girl!" Granny snapped.  
"Yes Esme." Nanny disagreed.  
"I obeyed my elders and betters."  
"Yes Esme."   
"I did what I was told!"  
The thought crossed Nanny's mind. 'Only when you wanted to.' But that was a part of witchcraft, choosing which rules to obey and which to break. And never, ever changing your mind. Unless it was really important, that is.  
"Where are we going, anyway?" Granny snapped.  
"To see young Esme? At the castle?"  
A rabid bear leapt out of the bushes and snarled. Nanny moved for a tree. Granny snarled at it, and...  
The bear went yelping into the bushes again. They heard it running away like all the hounds of hell were after it.   
"Bad mood, Esme?" Nanny asked evilly.  
  
The sun rose higher over Granny's cottage. The girl sat there. A shape drifted out of the trees. She turned and smiled. A young man, carrying a bag and wearing a slouch hat grinned at her and handed her the bag.  
"How's it going?" he asked, in an Exian accent.  
"So far, so good." she replied, digging into the bag.  
"Said the man who jumped off a cliff." he said, squatting next to her.  
She shrugged, eating the leg of chicken.  
"She'll come round some time." she said calmly. He shrugged.   
"I'll come back after dark." he said and taking the bag, walked back to the tree line. Although she was watching him, he faded into the forest. Eating the last of an apple, she tossed the core as far as she could into the trees. A curse answered her and she grinned.  
  
Granny stamped back up the path, and rounded the corner of the cottage.  
The girl was watching as if she expected Granny to turn that corner, just then.  
Granny scowled.  
"Just how long are you going to stay there?" she demanded.  
"As long as it takes." the calm answer came back.  
"You'll be there for a long time, then." Granny tried.  
The girl shrugged. She seemed to be saying that she could wait.  
Granny muttered under her breath and slammed the cottage door behind her.  
  
Granny lit a lamp, then looked out of the window. The girl had wrapped a cloak around herself, but still watched the cottage. Granny muttered, and sat down in her rocking chair.  
Reaching her mind out, she gently touched the girl's mind. The girl's whole attention locked onto Granny's probe.  
"I want to be a witch." she demanded.  
Granny was troubled.  
"Why?" she asked.  
"Revenge."  
"On who?"  
"Those who said the greatest witch in the world would never take a city girl."  
"Greatest witch? Who told you that?"  
"Woman Wizard at the University."  
"ESK?"  
"That was her name."   
Granny withdrew, very troubled now. She looked out of the window. The girl was staring at her.  
Granny opened a drawer and took out a small wooden box. Opening it, she took out a fragment of clay and a wrapped toffee. She stared at them for a while, then took the fishing buoy from the drawer.  
  
The cottage door opened. The young man froze and faded back into the trees.  
"You'd best come in then." Granny's voice was faint at this distance, but distinct.  
"If you want to be a witch, that is."  
The young woman got unsteadily to her feet and walked to the door. Granny entered first, but the woman paused and waved at the tree line, before entering the cottage. The door closed behind her. The young man smiled, and skirting the cottage headed for the Lancre Bridge.  
He wasn't needed here any more. 


	2. The Kings Apprentice

  
The young man walked up the hill and knocked on the castle's gate. A hatch slid open.  
"Yeesss?" a butlery voice asked. The young man stared though.  
"Why have you got a helmet on under your wig?" he asked.  
"Oh bugger. What do you want?" the voice changed to that of a young man.  
"The king was advertising for an assistant?" the young man asked.  
"Yes, you'd better come in then. By the way, I'm Shaun Ogg. Who are you?"  
"Peter." he replied.  
"Just, Peter?"  
"Yes."  
Shawn shrugged and opened the door.   
"The king is around here somewhere, let's see if we can find him."  
Peter had a guided tour of the Throne Room, dining room, various halls and passageways before   
  
they finally tracked down the king to the small room he was using as an office.  
"Heya boss, this guy came about the job?" Shawn said, and closed the door behind him. Verence the second, King of Lancre looked up.  
"I know I wanted him to stop playing that blasted trumpet, but..."  
He stood up and offered his hand. Peter shook it gravely.  
"Now, the job. What I need is someone to read any correspondence that comes in, deal with what he can, and generally help me run the kingdom. Do you think you can do that?"   
Peter looked up and gave it some thought.  
"Yes." he said.  
"You're an exian, right? I thought that they didn't have Kings?" Verence asked.  
"True. We don't seem to need them." Peter explained.  
"So what do you do instead?" Verence asked, intrigued. "I've tried to get Democracy working here, but they don't pay any attention."  
"We elect a Prime Minister, we throw him in jail, then we do what we want." Peter explained.  
"Why do you throw him in prison straight away?" Verence was intrigued.  
"Saves time." Verence laughed.  
"Ok, you got the job. You can start tomorrow. Do you have somewhere to stay? If not, see   
  
Millie, and she'll find a room for you."  
They shook hands again, and Peter left the room.  
Verence shook his head, and went back to the accounts.  
  
Shaun Ogg lent on his spear and looked over the battlements of Lancre Castle. Absolutly nothing. Not since the Vampires had been though had anything happened. Oh there were a few people out working in the fields, but there was no serious threat. And if there was a threat the witches would take care of it. They always did. Nothing that he could deal with. Oh, he'd fought against Elves, he touched his iron armor in memory. He'd led an army against the Elves. Granny had fixed that. And Vampires, or their mercenaries. He smiled at the memory of the gardenrobe exploding. Well, it was one way of getting rid of the it, and Magrat had always hated it, so he hadn't actually got into any trouble over it. But that again, had been the witches. Granny Weatherwax had done some trick on them, and they were gone. But there was nothing that he could say that He Had Done, that He Had Saved the day. He had invented the Lancre Army Knife, which was being sold down on the plains, but that was just inventing. Nothing Military. Nothing he could be proud off. He looked over the battlements again. Granny was approaching the Castle with his Mum. He sighed and dropped the drawbridge, then wandered down to meet them.  
  
"Why didn't you do the Who Goes There!" thing, Our Shawn?" Nanny asked him.  
"Cause I can see who it is, and if an Enemy has forced you and Granny to do anything, we're doomed anyway."  
He raised the drawbridge and wandered off, without even reaching for the trumpet.  
Nanny looked at Granny.   
"That was unusual. There is something wrong, but he won't tell his mum."  
she said, wandered deeper into the castle looking for Magrat.  
"Why would he tell you?" Granny asked.  
"Cause I'm his mum, that's why!" Nanny snapped.  
Millie Chillum emerged from a door, spotted the witches and gulped.  
"Where's Magrat, Millie?" Granny asked.  
"M'm, she's in the Nursery, m'm." Millie managed. Granny swept past but Nanny stopped.  
"Do you have any idea what's up with Our Shawn, Millie?" she asked.  
"No m'm. He's been acting very strange. Quiet. Spends a lot of time up on the battlements m'm."  
Nanny nodded, a little mystified, then hurried after Granny. She was waiting around the corner.  
Granny smiled.  
"I know what's wrong with Shawn!" she said triumphantly  
"What? How?" Nanny demanded.  
"I just had a look inside his mind. One major thought, was very easy to pick up."  
"What is it?" Nanny was hopping from one foot to the other.  
"If I tell you, you'll just make his life hell."  
"Well, I am his mother. And I will make his life hell unless you tell me."  
Granny smiled again.  
"He's fallen for Millie." she said simply.  
Nanny's mouth fell open.  
"Millie?" she asked.  
Granny nodded.  
"Shawn?"  
Granny nodded.  
"Oahh!" Nanny grinned. "I'll just give him a few hints!" She went to turn, when Granny's stare froze her.  
"What?" she demanded.  
"Why do you think he hasn't done anything about it yet? He's scared of what you'll do."  
"Me? What would I do?"  
Granny looked at the ceiling.  
"This coming from the woman who wrote 'Joye of Snacks? He also doesn't think he's good enough."  
"Why do you care?" Nanny demanded, as they started walking again.  
"I did birth him. You were occupied at the time." Granny said.  
"I was there." Nanny protested  
"You had just taken a swig of your rubbing scumble. I did all the work."  
"Ha!" Granny opened the door to the Nursery.  
Magrat was talking to a young man who was sitting on the floor, playing with Esme. Esme turned.  
"Granny! Granny!Granny!Granny!Granny!Granny!Granny!!" she shrieked and ran to her. Slamming into her legs she burrowed into the dress. Nanny grinned. Granny scowled. The young man stood up.  
"Granny, Nanny, this is Peter. He's going to work for Verence." He bowed deeply. Esme took the chance to leap onto his back.  
"Horsie!" she shouted. Peter sighed, as if this wasn't the first time, and started to pace around the room. Magrat giggled at the sight of the tall lanky exian, with a toddler shrieking in his ear.  
"We just dropped in to check that everything was ok." Granny scowled at Peter as he paced past. He just shrugged at her  
"We was also wondering if you had done that notebook you was working on." Granny continued.  
Magrat looked blank, then her eyes lit up.  
"Oh, the Witches Desk Herbal Reference?" She took a small book from a drawer and handed it over. Granny flipped through the pages.  
"It's strange, Shawn was looking though it earlier. Wouldn't say what he was looking for though" Magrat mentioned in passing. Granny and Nanny looked at each other. Magrat caught the look, and thought deeply.   
"Although, it was around the love potions section." She looked up and grinned. "Millie?" she asked.  
"Yep." Nanny confirmed. Magrat laughed.   
"Explains a lot!" she chuckled. "He hasn't been blowing his own trumpet."   
Nanny and Magrat cracked up, Granny looked on disapprovingly. Peter stopped next to her.  
"Silly." Esme commented, then leapt towards Granny.   
"Want to go for a walk, Esme?" Granny asked her.  
"yes! Peter come to!" she chirped, and lent out for him.  
Granny stared at him and nodded.  
"Do what you want." He nodded, and followed as they left the other two still laughing.  



	3. Just a working man

A few weeks passed if they had something better to do. Possibly they did.  
  
"You want a WHAT?" Granny demanded.  
"A day off." the girl said calmly. "It's been four weeks now."  
"What would you do on your 'day off?" Granny asked.  
The girl shrugged.  
"I don't know. Scream at trees. Walk as far as I can."  
"Name me a good poultice for infections.." Granny demanded  
"Mouldy bread, and eucalyptus oil." she answered promptly.  
"What's eucalyptus oil?" Granny demanded.  
"Oil from the leaves of an Exian tree. The Exians swear at it, it's a cure for almost everything. Along with tea and beer. And why shouldn't I have a day off?"  
"Witches don't take days off!"  
Nanny stuck her head around the door.  
"Me and Magrat are taking Esme to see the Nac Mac Feegle. You coming? What?" she demanded as Granny scowled at her.  
"You've got until sunset. If you are not back by then, you can sleep with the goats." Granny grabbed her hat and walked out of the room. She stuck her head back in.  
"Look in the box, and I'll pull your head off!" she snapped, and withdrew. The girl shrugged and wandered out.  
  
"Shawn, where's Peter?" Verence asked Shawn.  
"I think he went into town, he said something about finishing the letters and being bored." Shawn was staring down the hall. When Verence followed his stare, Shawn blushed and looked away. Verence wondered what was so intriguing about Millie. He shrugged.  
"Could you take these down to the Carriage then? Then do the mail?" Shawn nodded and took the offered letters.  
  
Peter was wandering along the market, seeing what was on offer. Walking around the corner of a stall, he bumped into a young woman.  
"Watch where you are going!" she snapped.  
"I'm sorry, but it is partially your fault as well." he said politely  
"How dare you say that?" she demanded. Then she looked up.  
"Sorry about that." she said, blushing. "It's been a bad day."  
Behind them Shawn wandered past. He was watching Millie across the market square, and walked straight into a wall. Both of them grinned.   
How's it been going up at Granny's?" he asked  
She tried to 'touch' her mind as Granny had taught her, but her probe rebounded from his mind. She winced.  
"I felt that." Peter commented before continuing. "I've got work up at the castle.   
"Something Granny taught me." Heather explained.  
Peter nodded.   
"I met Granny a few weeks back, up at the castle. I can see why she is meant to be the best in the world."  
Heather agreed.  
"By the way, Granny wants some of that eucalyptus oil. She wants to try it out." Peter fumbled in a pocket and produced a small brown bottle with a picture of a parrot on the label.  
"I've only got a few left, and it takes weeks to get it up from Richard Smith down in Ankh-Morpork." He twisted the lid off and she caught a whiff of the strong smelling oil. Her nose wrinkled and he put the lid back on.  
"It's poisonous, and it'll explode if it catches alight. It'll clean things though! Clears the sinuses."  
She put the bottle in a pocket.   
"Is there anything interesting here today?" she asked, looking around.  
"I'm not sure. Shall we have a look?" he replied, offering an arm.  
  
Granny, Nanny, Magrat and Esme walked along a path back from the lake. Far off in the tree-line someone watched.  
"These are the witches?" a voice asked. It didn't sound like a nice voice. It sounded like someone who would enjoy a puppy sandwich.  
"These are the defenses of Lancre?", it said disbelievingly.  
"Yes. Very good defenses. They have defeated Elves. Not half-elves, but True Elves." This voice was female, and sounded like one that knew that it was the most powerful here, even if it had to kick a few people to prove it.   
"And last year they defeated a Vampire Clan." she continued.  
"Yeah, I heard the Old Count was back." another voice answered. This voice was what a ferret would sound like if it could talk. This voice could steal your belt without you noticing.  
"Lancre has grown rich, partly because of these witches. So we shall...reappropriate some of these riches, to deserving people of course."  
The female voice said oilily.  
"Which people would these be?" asked puppy-sandwich voice.  
"Us you idiot!" snapped the ferret.  
"But how will we get past the Witches?" puppy-sandwich voice asked in a worried tone.  
The female produced a few blue bottles.  
"Toss this though the window and it'll be night-night" she promised.  
The men grinned.  
"When do the rest of the boys arrive?" ferret voice asked.  
"Later tonight. Tomorrow night..." she promised.  
  
Heather sneezed violently. Granny looked over her almanac at her.  
"If that's what having a 'day off' does to you, it'll be a while before you have another one." she commented.  
"It could have something to do with crawling through the bracken this morning looking for that bloody herb!" Heather snapped back. Granny shrugged.  
"You never did find it."   
"Yes, that's cause it doesn't grow in the Ramtops!" Heather returned.  
"You should have checked in the Herbal before you went traipsing off. Anyway, cure yourself. You should know enough by now." Granny put the almanac back in the drawer and stoked the fire for the night.  
"Blow the lamp out when you come up." Granny directed, and closed the kitchen door behind her. Heather sighed, and stared at the moths circling the lantern. She concentrated and...  
The great holy light, circling it, searching for the holy place, flapping wings, trying to touch the light....  
...backed away from the moth mind. She sneezed again.  
"I wonder if my body sneezed while I was away?" she asked the empty kitchen.   
Opening a drawer, she took a piece of cotton wool. Taking the bottle from a pocket she swabbed some eucalyptus oil on her chest. She blew the lamp out and climbed the stairs.  



	4. The Witchnapping

The half-moon was veiled by racing clouds. Though the night small groups of people moved towards their targets.  
  
Nanny slept the sleep of the little black bottle on the bedside table. At the bottom of the bed slept Greebo, the most vile animal ever to hide inside a kennel and wait for the hunting dogs to come home. The window was open, letting the night air fill the room. A sound made one of Greebo's ragged ears perk. A bottle flew though the window and smashed. The colour of vapour filled the room, spilling out the window. Greebo screeched, Nanny sat up and said "what the h-" before collapsing. Figures moved quickly, masks over their faces, binding Nanny and leaving just as fast as they had come. Behind them Greebo was unconscious on the bed.  
  
This had been considered one of the harder parts to the mission. The group had scaled the wall, totally missed by the guard who was down in the kitchen peeling spuds. They moved quietly though the castle and paused outside a door. One took hold of the handle, the other took a bottle from a padded bag. Throwing open the door, the bottle was thrown, the door closed again. They bound & gagged Magrat and picked up the sleeping Esme. Closing the door behind them, they left an unconscious Verence in his bed on the floor. The last man out dropped a note on his chest.  
  
The group led by the Woman carefully approached Granny's cottage. Her bedroom window lay open.  
"What about the girl?" puppy-sandwich voice asked.  
"What about her? The vapour will fill the cottage." The woman let fly, and the bottle sailed though the window and smashed on the floor. They let themselves in and bagged & gagged Granny. In her room Heather eyes shot open. She heard the steps and opened the door.  
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!" she shouted, using all of the tricks Granny had been able to teach her. Unfortunately she didn't look behind her. One of the men clenched his fist and hit her on the head. She lay outside her room, unconscious.  
  
All over Lancre that night, bottles were thrown and people were kidnapped. Almost always it was a child, a wife, but almost never the men. Jason Ogg's wife and eldest son were kidnapped. Carter lost his daughter, Weaver his son. When the sun rose, they all found out what had happened and headed for the castle. 


	5. The Revolting Masses

The sun rose over Lancre In Granny's cottage Heather woke up with a huge headache and some very disturbing memories. Verence awoke to find his wife and child missing. Shawn Ogg found his mother missing from her bedroom, and Greebo unconscious on the bed. Shouts arose from around Lancre as the crime was discovered.   
  
The shouting crowd filled he Great Hall. Verence stood at the stop of the stairs trying to make himself heard. Finally he cracked.  
"WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP!" he bellowed. Everyone fell silent.  
"Right, everyone has lost someone. Magrat & Esme were kidnapped." he said in a more normal tone of voice.  
"Mum's gone as well." spoke up Shawn from the foot of the stairs.  
Heather shouted from the doors at the far end.  
"Granny's gone too!"   
The crowd started shouting again.  
"SILENCE!" Verence bellowed. "Have they got all the witches?"  
Mrs Nitt spoke up from somewhere in the middle.  
"Our Agnes went into Uberwald to see that Priest that christened your baby, Sire!"  
"Right, at least she is safe. Shawn, Peter, come with me. The rest of you stay here. We'll have a plan in a minute." As he turned there was an outburst of yelping as Heather made her way though the crowd with the help of a sharp hatpin. "I'm coming as well!" she shouted.  
'You? You're just a girl!" Weaver shouted back.  
"She's Granny's Apprentice!" Peter shouted.  
Weaver blinked. "Oh...that's all right then." he muttered and tried to hide in the crowd.  
"Jason Ogg?" Verence shouted.  
"Yes Sire?" Jason called back.  
"Everyone and I mean everyone is to stay here. Understand?"   
"Yes Sire!"  
  
They met in Verence's office.  
"They didn't go over the bridge," Shawn was explaining.  
Verence was standing in front of a map of Lancre. It had a lot of green on it.  
"So they still must be in Lancre.' he mused. There was a knock at the door. "Yes?" he called.  
Millie opened it.  
"This note as given to Big Jim Beef, Sire. He dosent know who gave it to him, and they rode back down towards the plains." Verence unfolded it.  
"IF YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR WIVES, DAUGHTERS AND SONS AGAIN, YOU MUST GIVE US ALL OFF YOUR VALUABLES. IF WE DO NOT SEE THEM, YOU WILL NOT SEE YOUR FAMILY." he read. He looked up.  
"Bugger that! Shawn, do you think we could take them out?"  
"We did OK against the Elves." Shawn said, tapping his chain mail just in case. Heather spoke up.  
"Me and Peter can go find the camp, they wont see us." Verence looked sceptical.  
Heather faded into the foreground, her hair fading into a wood beam, her dress into the shadows. Verence blinked and she had disaperaed.  
Peter moved as well, into a shadow and froze. With no movement by his part, he vanished as well.  
Verence nodded.  
"Ok, while Shawn arms the people, you two go and find their camp. When you find it, one of you come and let us know. All right?" Both nodded and left the room. Verence turned to Shawn.  
"Ok, Army Chief. How are we going to do this." Shawn looked down at his boots while he thought. He looked up.  
"We put the poachers & the hunters in groups of five. It'll be their jobs to get as close as they can without being detected. Form the rest of them into patrols of about 10 each."  
"Woman as well?" Verence quiered.  
"You want to tell them they have to stay behind?" Shawn asked.  
Verence nodded.  
"Go do it." He commanded. Shawn saluted and ran off.  
"Now we see what we can do without the witches help." he muttered to a picturegraph of his wife. "Now the midden really hits the windmill."  
  
  



	6. Verence the Conquerer

Peter and Heather crept though the woods, listening intently.  
"Shawn reckoned that they should be somewhere up near Copperhead, lots of caves up there.   
Following the poachers paths they made good time. Heather, who was leading suddenly stopped and looked around.  
"What's wrong?" he whispered.  
"Someone is watching us." she hissed.  
Peter looked around, the hairs on his neck prickling. They stood back to back, watching the woods. Above them a bandit slid down headfirst on a rope. When he was in-between them, he asked quietly.  
"What's this, lovers lane?"  
The speed of their response briefly startled him.  
Heather spun and punched him in the chest, going down on one knee.   
Peter leapt and spun in the air, kicking the bandit in the legs. He flipped on his throat and landed face first in the mould.  
A clapping noise from the side of the path startled both of them. Peter shot out a hand and a dagger thudded into another guard.  
"I suggest you don't try that again." said a nasty voice from behind them.  
They turned together to see a man standing in the bushes. His face was pudgy and pockmarks, and scars crossed his face. He leered at Heather.  
"Are you a really bad shaver?" Peter wanted to know. This seemed to put puppy-sandwich of his track.  
"What?" he demanded.  
"Are you a really bad shaver?" Peter asked again.  
"What are you talking about? It doesn't matter, get moving, or the archers will shoot you. And don't try to fade. Can you move faster than an arrow?" He leered at Heather again.  
"Maybe we can have a talk later." he suggested.  
"Maybe I can kill you later." Heather sneered. Puppy-sandwich laughed.  
"I like a girl with spirit."  
Peter muttered under his breath, "I wonder how he likes girls with steel-cap boots."  
  
They were marched into the bandit camp at arrow-point. Most of the kidnapped were in a corral in the middle of the camp. Peter stared at it for a moment, then hissed at Heather,   
"Where's the Witches?".  
Heather's head spun around. They were not in the corral, and couldn't be seen anywhere. Then she noticed the small tent with a dozen guards around it. She nodded at it. Peter stared at   
it for a moment then nodded.  
"Into the corral. But you can stay with -AGHHHH!" Puppy-sandwich had grabbed Heather's arm. She had responded by stamping on his foot, elbow into stomach, knee into face. He collapsed,   
making bubbling sounds. There was laughter from inside the corral, but also from outside. A tall woman, dressed in black and with the latest in sharp weapons for the discerning bandit   
chief walked up.  
"You've got spirit." she said, almost admiringly at Heather. She moved to slap her, and Heather's hand shot out and caught the arm. The chief snarled at her.  
"Into the corral! Otherwise I'll perforate your boyfriend here." Heather looked at Peter and laughed. The chief looked a little confused. Peter nodded, almost unnoticeable. Still laughing, Heather lead the way into the coral.  
  
Several hours later, the sun had began to set. At Lancre castle, torches flared in the courtyard. Shawn had given the Lancre Army a short lesson in how to use a sword and a spear (you hold the blunt end, the sharp end goes into the enemy), but many had retained their scythes and axes. Shawn was pacing back and forth on the battlements.  
"Why haven't they returned." he muttered. Verence appeared behind him.  
"Don't worry, I've got a plan two." He leant on the battlements and stared out over the forests.  
"Do you have a plan 3?" Shawn demanded.  
"Yes. We give the bandits what they want, so we get what we need."  
Shawn thought about this.  
"I don't like that plan."  
"Neither do I. Anyway, lets move out. They have got to be on the High Country, so if we move that way we can save time."  
"But we still don't know where the camp is!" Shawn wailed.  
"We will." Verence had the look on his face that kings usually get before they go and conquer a small continent.  
"We will."  
  
  
In the corral, Peter had been moving towards an edge. Looking around to ensure that he was unobserved, he took a signal flare from under his jacket and lit it. There was a "WHOOOSH" as it flew into the air.   
"Who did that!" A guard screamed. A dagger hit him in the throat. Peter leapt over the barricade and disappeared into the night. Heather grabbed a rock and threw it at a guard.   
There was a scream from the darkness as a guard found Peter. Unfortunately, Peter had found him first.   
  
Verence saw the flare.  
"Lets go!" he shouted. The Lancre Army moved into the forest, keeping as quiet as they could, closing in on the camp.  
  



End file.
